


Slow Waltz Under Streetlamps

by Cocoa_N_Donuts



Series: Blackhill Week 2018 [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blackhill Week, Blackhill Week 2018, Day 8: NSFW, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 08:35:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13543656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cocoa_N_Donuts/pseuds/Cocoa_N_Donuts
Summary: ' “All for you. Only for you, my love.” Natasha says, eyes hooded, voice sultry, body still undulating into Maria, “Now, don’t you want to unwrap your present?” She stretches languorously, until her chest (and the bow) was in Maria’s face.With only slightly trembling hands, she tugged on the ribbon, drawing it slowly. But Natasha pulls away, and the bow unravels together with Maria’s sanity. 'The love story of Maria and Natasha told through dance.





	Slow Waltz Under Streetlamps

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was inspired by 4 Songs: Scars by James Bay, Havana by Camila Cabello, Yours by Ella Henderson. Perfect (Wedding Version) Piano Cover. Oh, and for the special NSFW scene? Come on Closer - Jem
> 
> While Maria and Natasha do have sex in this piece, it will not be explicitly described. *cough* I had to do a lot of research for the NSFW scene in this one, but it is not sex. Also, let me know if I got anything wrong with the particular dances. I know little to nothing about dancing, but I did watch a few videos for research.

“Wow, how long have you been watching this boring drivel?” Maria sits beside Natasha on the couch, popcorn bowl in hand.

 

Natasha gasps in shock, tearing her eyes from the pop singer dancing on stage to a much too trashy tune, “How could you hold such hatred towards my life’s love?’

 

Maria smirks, “Really, watching this Bieber guy jerk around to his own song is your life’s love? I thought you had standards, Romanoff.”

 

Natasha snorts, “I chose _you_ , didn’t I?”

 

“At this point in time, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment anymore…” Maria began flipping to the page of the book where she had last left off.

 

Natasha replaces the bowl of popcorn on Maria’s lap with her head, cradling the bowl on her chest instead, “Fine. You are my life’s love, okay?” Natasha lifts Maria’s shirt just to press a chaste kiss to her exposed abs, patting it contentedly over her shirt after she was done. “But music and dance comes a close second, though. It was the one thing from the Red Room that I don’t actually hate.”

 

Maria sighs, threading her fingers through her girlfriend’s hair absently while flipping the pages of her book occasionally, “Mmh...You’re going to convince me into loving dance, aren’t you?”

 

Natasha flicks a popcorn at her, “You know it.”

 

* * *

 

“Come on, Mar. You’ll never know if you don’t try it!”

 

“Oh, I can already feel the music thudding in my bones, Natasha. I’ve tried it, and I don’t like it.”

 

“We’re ten feet away from the club, Mar.”

 

“I’m sorry, what did you say? I can’t hear you over that obnoxious bass.”

 

Natasha pouts, “Come on, Mia. For me? Please?”

 

Maria looks at her girlfriend, all pleading puppy eyes and slight pout. “Fine. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

 

“This will be great! Clubbing is the gateway to dance addiction.” Natasha begins pulling Maria into the club.

 

“Or permanent hearing loss…” Maria grumped.

 

Natasha stops in her tracks of pulling Maria along, fixes her with an annoyed expression.

 

“Okay, okay, I’ll try to enjoy myself.”

Natasha’s frown remains on her face, “Mar, as much as I want you to enjoy dance, if you’re not comfortable, then really, we don’t have to do this.”

 

Maria pecks Natasha on her nose. “You’re sweet. I said I’ll do this, especially for you. I’m sorry I’m so grumpy. I’ll give it a chance.”

 

Natasha smiles, hugging Maria tightly, “Thank you, Mia.”

 

Maria allows herself to be dragged onto the dancefloor, and she stands there, standing out like a stick in the mud. She looks at Natasha, all slender and fluid in her motions, and then at her limbs, wondering what to do with them.

 

Natasha places her hands on Maria, “You look like a stick being wiggled around by a child. Just...Let go Maria, just… express yourself.”

 

“I’m ex-military.” Maria almost flusters, “I… I don’t know how do this. We were told specifically not to express ourselves in camp.”

 

“We’re not in a camp, Maria! Just go with the flow. It’s not that difficult!”

 

“Habits are hard to break!” Maria shouts defensively, “You know what? I’m gonna get a drink. I’m too sober for this.”

 

“Fine!” Natasha snaps, “Get me some vodka as well. On the rocks.”

 

Maria squeezes her way through the crowd to the bar, already feeling discomfited at the sheer number of strangers she’d already touched, places the orders for two glasses of scotch on the rocks and another one for vodka, and immediately gulps down a glass of scotch, glad for the burn in her throat. She paid, tipping generously, and braves the crowd back to where she’d left Natasha… only to find Natasha dancing with another man, both of them excellent dancers, the man’s hand definitely straying from polite territory.

 

Maria was not an easily jealous person. But she was a prideful one, and watching Natasha dance with another person who could do the one thing that Maria couldn’t…

 

Maria strides up between the both of them, barely giving a glance to Natasha’s challenging eyebrow lift. She feels the woman stiffen in dread, and felt a sense of spiteful satisfaction.

 

She smiles disarmingly at the man, holding his gaze with a nod. She downs her scotch in one go, and upturns the vodka meant for Natasha over his head.

 

Tossing the two glasses aside, she walks out, heedless to the drama behind her, or Natasha’s calls, and orders herself an Uber.

 

She leaves the car for Natasha, since she had already consumed a significant amount of alcohol within a short period of time.

 

The Uber comes satisfyingly quickly, the driver apparently having anticipated a demand for drivers at a club, and she climbs aboard, locking the doors and telling the driver to go, even as Natasha hammered on the windows for Maria to wait.

 

Natasha was the Black Widow-- She’d get back home fine.

 

She made small talk with the driver, glad that he respectfully changes the topic from what had just happened outside the club. She finds out that Matthew, the driver, was actually a fan of how Maria had handled the PR fallout from the New York battle. Pleasantly surprised, she digs a little further, and finds that he had just graduated from university with a degree in communications. He was looking to enter the PR industry, and asked for tips about crisis management… which she shared freely.

 

The talk was surprisingly interesting, and Maria found herself genuinely distracted from the familiar car driving alongside and behind them.

 

When they arrived at the driveway outside their apartment, Matt shyly asked for a photo, and Maria, already endeared with the young chap’s polite, sincere humility, gladly accepted.

 

They flicked the light on in the front, and Matt’s hands trembled slightly as he positioned his handphone camera to incorporate the both of them into the frame. She smiles, amusedly, before taking the camera from him. With steady hands, she shot the photo, thanked Matt for the ride, and got out of the car.

 

“Good night, Maria!” Matt called cheerily from the car, and Maria waved at him with a small smile.

 

Natasha was standing by the side of the walkway, looking oddly off-kilter and unsure. Maria strides right past her, enters their home, uncaring if Natasha followed after her.

 

She makes her way to the bedroom to gather her nightclothes, and enters the adjoining bathroom. She takes a warm shower, trying to wash off the stink of the club, and the feel of strangers on her skin.  

 

When she was finally done, she exits to find Natasha already showered, sitting on the bed with a sheepish, apologetic expression and a glass of warm water-- a peace offering.  

 

Maria considers her for a moment, knowing how hard it was for her girlfriend to be emotionally vulnerable before her. Finally sighing, she plucks the cup of water from Natasha’s hands, and sits next to her, leaving just a gap between them.

 

“So… trying to appeal to your competitive side to get you dancing wasn’t the best decision?” Natasha began.

 

Maria takes a sip of water, “No. Not when you’re involved.”

 

There was silence as Natasha processed her words, and Maria sipped at her water, trying to calm the buzz in her brain from the alcohol.

 

“I’m sorry. What I did was unnecessary. You were already trying your best for me, despite being so out of your element, and I was still unappreciative to your efforts. I’m sorry.”

 

“Mm…” Maria hums an acknowledgement, feeling her anger abate somewhat.

 

Natasha sighs, “You didn’t enjoy yourself, did you?”

 

Maria shakes her head, says in a small, tentative voice, “I… don’t like being caught off guard, seeing you with someone who could do something better than I could....I didn’t like it.”

 

Natasha attaches herself to Maria’s side, “I’m sorry. I should never have pressured you into going to a club. I should have never tried to make you jealous. I shouldn’t be pushing you into liking something just because I do.” Natasha takes one of Maria’s hands in hers, presses a kiss to the back of it.

 

Maria shakes her head, “Nat, I know dance is important to you. I agreed to going with you and trying to learn. I _want_ to learn more about dance, and more about you. Just… Just maybe not in a club. Dance is… it’s intimate, and I want to be the one sharing it with you. Only me.” She snuggles deeper into Natasha’s embrace.

 

“I know, I know. This one is all on me. I shouldn’t have danced with another person. Not like that, and definitely not in a club. I just thought that a club would be the easiest form of dancing for you. I guess it’s not quite both of our scene. It’s crassy.”

 

“Noisy.”

 

“Hot. Not in a good way.”

 

“Too many sweaty people touching me in too many places.”

 

Natasha pulls Maria closer to her, “I’m sorry, love. Allow me to claim all of you back?” She presses a kiss to Maria’s smooth shoulder.

 

“I just got into these pyjamas.” Maria protested.

 

“But you smell so _good_.” Natasha husked, looking at Maria through her lashes, and Maria falls a little more in love. Tipping Natasha’s head up, she leans down and kisses her girlfriend.

 

Natasha pushes Maria back onto the bed.

 

* * *

 

Maria stares. It’s rare that she is ever speechless while at SHIELD. Actually, never in the history of SHIELD had she been rendered speechless.

 

But watching Natasha rehearse for a an undercover position as a Russian ballet teacher has done exactly that. Watching Natasha prancing around on point, spinning, leaping, pirouetting around like she owned the stage…

 

And she did. She really did. Along with Maria’s heart. Especially when the tiny ballerina did such effortless splits mid-air.

 

When Natasha finally returns to the position she began in, Maria broke the auditorium’s silence with applause of her own.

 

Natasha’s glanced up to look at her, cheeks flushed, and she relaxes her position, hop, skips, and bounces her way to Maria.

 

“Hi there, Director Hill.” Natasha jumps into Maria’s arms, to peck her on the lips.

 

Maria catches her, unable to keep a small smile from her face in the sheer glory of Natasha’s infectious happiness. “Hi yourself, Agent Romanoff.”

 

“So… Have I changed your mind about dancing?”

 

Maria’s eyes narrow in suspicion, “You didn’t really need practice, did you? This was just a reason to make me watch you dance?”

 

Natasha laughs, light and free, “You’ll never get the answer out of me, Director Hill!”

 

Maria stares in the face of having Natasha so carefree, amazed at how beautiful this side of her girlfriend was, “Well… While I watched you dance, I did get reminded of something…” Maria pulled Natasha ever closer.

 

Natasha’s eyes sparkled with eager enthusiasm as she waited and listened.

 

“... it reminded me of exactly how _flexible_ you are.” Maria swooped in to kiss Natasha, who giggled at her girlfriend’s antics. The playful mood changed once Maria began running her hands all over Natasha, and Natasha begins pushing back at Maria’s jacket.

 

They barely made it to Maria’s quarters before all Maria’s clothes fell to the ground, and they most definitely did _not_ make it to the bed before Natasha’s leotard was peeled off of her.

 

* * *

 

Maria was led, blindfolded, into the living room.

 

“This is a most interesting birthday present, Natasha.”

 

“You have no idea.” Natasha positioned Maria around a… thing, and said, “Sit.”

 

Maria lowered herself slowly into a chair in a show of impressive core control, and waited while Natasha swept around the room, busying herself with unseen matters.

 

Maria was a show of patience as she sat where she was, hands folded on her thighs.

 

The sound of music fills the air, rhythmic and seductive.

 

Natasha settles onto Maria’s lap, and ever so slowly lifts the blindfold on Maria.

 

Maria’s breath hitches in her throat.

 

Natasha was dressed only in a single piece of red satin ribbon wrapped around repeatedly over her body. Clashing spectacularly with her hair and colouration, the ribbon barely covered any of Natasha’s privates. A big bow adorns Natasha’s chest.

 

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Natasha greets, beginning to grind her hips into Maria in time to the music. Sitting on Maria’s lap, she was finally taller than Maria. So they stare into one another’s eyes, Maria drinking in the beauty and happiness of Natasha, Natasha soaking in how stunned Maria was.

 

Unconsciously, Maria’s arms begin snaking around her gift’s waist.

 

“Is this… all for me?” Maria asks with a dry, dry throat. She had never felt more appreciated for being born.

 

“All for you. Only for you, my love.” Natasha says, eyes hooded, voice sultry, body still undulating into Maria, “Now, don’t you want to unwrap your present?” She stretches languorously, until her chest (and the bow) was in Maria’s face.

 

With only slightly trembling hands, she tugged on the ribbon, drawing it slowly. But Natasha pulls away, and the bow unravels together with Maria’s sanity.

 

“Normally, the rule is no touching. But since it’s your birthday… you just have to get this ribbon off of me… However. You. Want.”

 

Maria swallows audibly, tracing the ribbon’s route across Natasha’s body hungrily.

 

And Natasha begins to dance. By God, Natasha starts to dance. Maria has seen Natasha dance, but never before had she participated in one.

 

Standing up causes more of the ribbon to fall away from Natasha’s skin, and Maria is left salivating at the creamy expanse that is her girlfriend’s chest. Drawing her hands all over her body, Natasha sways and flexes to the music, each kick of her hip in tandem with the soft, gentle beating thumps of melody.

 

She turns and sits on Maria’s lap, grinding, grinding, grinding her hips into Maria’s abs, and Maria struggles to keep coherent thought. The ribbon was still in Maria’s hands, though, so she followed it’s path around Natasha, pushing away at the length, and her lips trace where her fingers once were, licking and sucking in its path, until there wasn’t an inch of cloth left on her love’s body. Natasha moaned softly the moment Maria pressed lips to her skin, and everything derailed from there. Maria placed her hands on Natasha’s hips and spun the smaller woman around. Natasha wraps herself around Maria. Maria her arms around Natasha and heaved.

 

She pushes Natasha up a wall, pressing into the slender form in her embrace, devouring Natasha’s lips in a hungry kiss. With the spare ribbon in her hands, Maria pins both of Natasha’s hands together, pulls her lips from Natasha, breathing heavily, “Can I tie you up again?”

 

Arousal flares in Natasha’s eyes, and she nods.

 

Maria ropes the ribbon on Natasha’s wrists, finishes it off with a bow knot, “I can't help but to notice that each attempt to get me to love dance has led to me getting laid.”

 

“I believe in positive reinforcement,” Natasha gasps as Maria sucks a hickey into life on her neck, “Now shut up and _fuck_ me.”

 

Maria complies.

 

* * *

 

Maria wonders why saving the world meant having to attend so many balls. At least this was the first one where she was publicly with Natasha, and doesn’t need to watch all sorts of slimy people come cosy up to and flirt with the Black Widow.

 

A Tango number comes on, and Maria watches in wonder as Natasha _lights_ up and turns to her with a pleading expression.

 

Maria flashes Natasha a smile, snaps her feet to attention in the way that Natasha loves, and bows, offering a palm to Natasha, “Would you do me the honour, milady?”

 

Natasha eagerly accepts, a childlike grin on her face, and they begin making their way to the dance floor, “You’re amazing, Maria. I’ll do everything, just follow my lead and--”

 

Maria tuts, shaking her head and chuckling, “Ye of such little faith. I actually know the tango. I’ll lead, you work your charm,”

 

Natasha’s shocked expression opens to one of awe and barely concealed glee. “Oh? Have you been learning the tango behind my back? I’ll be happy to evaluate your skills, love.”

 

Maria’s smile was wry, “I actually learned this when I was a child.”

 

Natasha’s gaze was curious, but they’d reached the dancefloor. They presented to one another, Maria bowing deep in her suit, and Natasha curtsying low. They brought together in a closed position, and, assessing the beat of the tune, begin to move.

 

Thankfully, Maria _does_ have experience in ballroom dancing, and really, Natasha did most of the work. Maria just had to be there to catch her, dip her, act as a counterweight for Natasha to spin to her heart’s content. And was Natasha in her element! Flushed, glowing, each slip and slide of Maria’s hands on Natasha’s skin told of Maria’s appreciation for Natasha’s sheer joy in simply doing something she loved with the person she loved.

 

Their forms weaved together, building slowly with the magical music, gliding through the dance floor as if they owned it, as if there weren’t others present on the dancefloor.

 

They held one another’s gaze, waiting, waiting, the air between them charged with a buzz that crackled, snapped, then exploded in a series of lithe twirls, twists and turns, Natasha supple and fluid, Maria graceful, elegant, ready to support any move of Natasha’s.

 

Each sway of Natasha’s hips was alluring. Each dip where Natasha threw herself backwards into thin air, implicitly knowing that Maria would catch her, was steeped in trust, a deep mutual respect.

 

If Maria could pay more attention to it rather than focusing on reacting to Natasha’s each need, she would have been overcome with emotion. To be handed trust by someone who had endured what Natasha had-- it meant more to Maria than the would admit.

 

As the music tapered off, they spinned and snapped as one, back into the closed position as the music came to an end. Thunderous applause erupted from the entire room, who had cleared the floor to watch the two of them dance.

 

“I thought you didn’t dance?” Natasha peeks up through her lashes at Maria, panting lightly, voice sultry and seductive.

 

Maria smiles, cups a hand on Natasha’s cheek, “I didn’t. But what can I do? The girl I’m in love with is desperately in love with this art form. And I fall deeper in love with her everytime she dances. My favourite part, though? It’s definitely her high that comes after. Her smile is brighter, her laugh lighter, and I want to keep the glow that comes with dance on her face forever.”

 

“You sound pretty smitten, Hill.” Natasha’s eyes were twinkling with affection, almost forest green from how dilated her pupils were, and something in Maria tips— she makes a decision that she had been mulling over for some time.

 

“I am.” Maria releases her hold on Natasha, still maintaining their close proximity to one another, and reaches into her coat pocket, “And I’m hoping that she’ll be willing to marry me, be mine forever?” And she produces a ring: a simple, black band specially made from Kevlar.

 

Natasha stills, her smile fading, worry marring her face as she stares at the ring.

 

Maria’s heart stalls. Did Natasha want a diamond ring? Was it too soon? Was this the wrong occasion to propose?

 

“You… you really want me?” Natasha pipes up in a tiny voice, “All… all of me? Even my night terrors, my trauma, everything that I’ve done—“

 

Maria’s breathing resumes, and she tilts Natasha’s head up, grateful that despite her vulnerability and fear, Natasha still trusted Maria enough to talk about her insecurities rather than run away.

 

“I want you, Nat. All of you. With all of me. All your curves and edges, all your perfect imperfections.”

 

Natasha notices the song reference, and laughs through her tears.

 

“I’ve seen beneath your beautiful, Natasha. And I want it all.” Maria holds up the ring again, a small smile on her lips.

 

The capable spy as she was, Natasha somehow managed to put on the ring on the right finger, toss her arms around Maria’s neck, and crush her lips to Maria’s.

 

Maria kisses her through laughter and tears, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

Clint hoots in celebration somewhere in the distance, and the both of them laugh.

 

* * *

 

“I’m-- I’m sorry, Maria. I can’t-- I can’t do this. I’m not good enough for you. I’m sorry, I can’t marry you.” Natasha says, and runs from the apartment.

 

Maria’s ring thrums a violent staccato on her hand, and Maria worries at the mental state of her ex(?) fiance.

 

Maria knew that Natasha only ran when she was overcome with terror and self-doubt, so she allowed Natasha some time to calm down before she threw on a coat and followed the pull of her ring out of the house.

 

She finds Natasha in the middle of a park on a winter’s night, a small silhouette under a halo of light from a park lamp.

 

Wordlessly, Maria approaches, fishing out her phone, she begins playing their song on her phone. Slipping it back into her pocket so the music would follow her, she bows deeply in front of Natasha, offering a hand up to Natasha, “May I have this waltz, miss?”

 

Natasha’s hand slides into hers, practically frozen without gloves. Maria sighs, rubbing Natasha’s hands together to warm them slightly, before pulling her own gloves onto Natasha.

 

She pretends not to see the tears welling in Natasha’s eyes.

 

Instead, she wraps her scarf around Natasha, takes her hand, their rings finally reunited, and places her hand on the small of Natasha’s back, ready in the closed position.

 

Natasha’s other hand rested on Maria’s arm, and for a moment, the world fell away. It was only them, the song, and the slow sway of dance in their bodies. The winter’s cold nipped at their exposed skin, but they remained close, warm. There were no fancy dips, no extravagant moves, just them moving slowly along to their favourite song, basking in the silent company of the other.

 

Eventually, Natasha rests her head on Maria’s shoulder, “I ran from you, I practically left you at the altar. Why are you still so nice to me?”

 

Maria laughs lowly, “We’re hardly at the altar, Natasha. If you’re not ready, we can postpone the wedding. Hell, we’ll call it off if you want. It’s just a piece of paper, and nothing will stop me from loving you. Also, if you really wanted to leave me, you would have left the ring with me. You’re still wearing it. And I don’t think you’ve forgotten, but these rings have special Asgardian magnets on them. We’ll always know how to find each other as long as we’re wearing them. You _wanted_ me to find you.”

 

The rings had required some blood from the both of them, but now they were calibrated to the two people with the only rings on Earth that one, pulled to its partner, and two, reflected the other wearer’s heartbeats while they were wearing them.

 

“I can’t give you children.” Natasha sniffles into Maria’s coat. Maria chooses to press her cheek to Natasha’s head, just holding her love.

 

“We can adopt as many children as we want.”

 

“I’ll always be waking you up from my night terrors.”

 

“All I ask is to be able to hold you after.”

 

“I’ve killed so many.”

 

“You’ve saved even more.”

 

‘I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can be a good wife, I--”

 

“Nat.” Maria cuts her off, “Nat. Look at me.”

 

Maria waits till Natasha wipes her face on Maria’s coat to meet her gaze, “Nat. You’ve already been a great wife to me all these years. Remember the times when I was sick and being a horrible patient? You were the amazing wife who always nursed me back to health. Nothing has to change between us. It’s just a ceremony and a piece of paper. Heck, if you don’t want those, we don’t have to get married at all. I just want to be with you for every step in your life from now on forward. For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. It’s just my promise to you, okay?”

 

Three words hung between them, unsaid, but felt in the deepest corners of their hearts. It pulled Maria’s fingers to Natasha’s face, wiping away the tears from her love’s face. It drew Natasha’s arms around Maria, face to chest, as Maria led them through the slow waltz under the streetlamp.

 

“Mar?”

 

“Hm…?”

 

“I don’t want to postpone or cancel the wedding.”

 

“Okay, love.”

 

“Mar?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You have my snot all over your coat. And it’s frozen.”

 

Maria sighs deeply, “We’ll do the laundry tomorrow, Nat.”

 

“Okay,” Nat snuggles deeper into Maria’s chest. And blows her nose into Maria’s coat.

 

Maria sighs again, but only rubs gentle circles on her fiance’s back.

 

**Author's Note:**

> With that, ladies, gentlemen, and friends, we have come to the end of Blackhill Week 2018. Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and giving my pieces the kudos you think they deserved. And while I must say that I’ve enjoyed this trip most wonderfully, I am also pretty burnt out. Save for school, never have I typed so much, in such a short span of time. I hope you have all enjoyed this journey with me, and as usual, do let me know what you thought of this fic. Or just come scream at me on [tumblr](http://cocoa-n-donuts.tumblr.com/) if you feel so inclined. 
> 
> Love you all, stay cool. *Two fingered salute*


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